Redbarrel
by Shurpuff
Summary: Summary: There is no Master at Chaldea; Humanity is doomed. The world's final effort to foil Goetia's ambitions results in an unlikely setup—a Servant as a Master. Enter Emiya Shirou, who by necessity can never be an Emiya Shirou from this world, but from another one entirely. Can he save the world a second time, not as a Master, but a Servant?
1. Chapter 1

_Summary: There is no Master at Chaldea; Humanity is doomed. The world's final effort to foil Goetia's ambitions results in an unlikely setup—a Servant as a Master. Enter Emiya Shirou, who by necessity can never be an Emiya Shirou from this world, but from another one entirely._

* * *

The world was doomed to burn.

All of Humanity's history, from the end-point where the Incineration began, to the very start of the species—all of it burned at the hands of the Beast. And in this time, Fortune meddled with Fate, twisting the sequence of events in the timeline just so: that when the Last Master was revealed, having long been readied to combat this oppression—they died, instead, and the light of hope sputtered.

Such meddling caprices would have doomed a world to oblivion. But Fate would not be denied in this instance. Catastrophic failure was not in the cards. So Fate turned not away, and pulled a string or two, here and there, and everywhere.

Within the systems embedded deep into Chaldea's core, something flared, as mana surged through the very depths. The energy flowed and coiled, until it coalesced into a single spot, fueling a once-in-a-lifetime anomaly that had would never be witnessed.

It necessitated that _no one _witness it, which was a condition for its materialization. It was a flawed miracle that required very specific conditions, and it was completed within the infinitesimal moments between the smallest intervals of time, the smallest the universe could handle.

And so, since no one saw it, no one could dispute it, and therefore no one could deny it. Such was the sleight that Fate performed, as it deftly inserted a new variable in the flow of time.

Light blossomed.

In the burning ruins of the Control room, where a certain Mashu Kyrielight lay bleeding beneath some rubble, a portal opened in space. To the shock of those observing, a Servant emerged, unguided by the normal summoning methods that were available to Chaldea.

The man's eyes were striking, like a hawk, as it surveyed the damage. Light coalesced around its frame, forming lightly armored clothing. Graying auburn hair swayed as the man swiftly analyzed the situation. Debris crunching beneath its boots, it strode towards Mashu, unheeding the computer's robotic words overhead.

"Here, Mashu." A quick punch blasted the debris away. Then the man kneeled.

The shocked girl took his proffered hand. "Umm… who?"

"A Servant, just like you. Though I can sense that my appearance here is quite unusual in the ultimate scale of things." He smiled bitterly up at the representation of the burning globe upon CHALDEAS, signifying the current state of the world.

"**Master candidate found**," came the computer's voice.

"So it has," the man murmured, eyeing the marks on the back of his hand. He glanced at the girl, who still looked bewilderingly at him. "Are you ready for this, Mashu? To carry the weight of the world—no, wait, that's not important. What I should really be saying is: will you trust me?"

After a pause, she nodded. "I trust you."

Brilliant light surrounded them. At the last second, he pushed her away from the path of the dematerializing waves. His smile turned satisfied when he felt his body, and his body alone, dissipate into the Rayshift.

()()()

His name, once, had been Emiya Shirou. A long time ago, by his reckoning—he had once been a humble human, chosen by destiny.

In this burning world, the many possibilities of "Emiya Shirou" all held within them the same starting point—the child born from the ashes of the Fourth Holy Grail War. Any other Emiya Shirous from before that point were irrelevant in the grand tapestry of history, their names either long forgotten, or so different that they may as well be a separate existence (as of the female Shirou).

Some Emiya Shirous would be imprinted upon the Throne, some would forever dance for the world as a Counter Guardian, and still others would end pursuing strange fates. But the definition of any Emiya Shirou, especially when one was needed to be summoned for any reason, was that he started at that particular point. The many facets of his future, some more bizarre than the rest combined, stretched out to infinity, their many permutations essentially unlimited.

In this burning world, Fate needed a Master. With the right backing, Emiya Shirou would make for an excellent backup, as he had the qualities necessary to be a Master. Yet in this occurrence of the timeline Emiya Shirou was long dead, and the dead stayed dead. If there were versions of him to be summoned, they would only be Servants at the most—mere reflections of Emiya Shirous. This was a rule that could never be surmounted.

But a loophole could be exploited. If a Master destined to overcome Goetia had died, and if time and nature could not conspire to produce a replacement just in time; then the replacement could be _summoned, _as of a Servant.

The first choice, of course, was an imprint of the Master. Of that other Master, however, naught can be mentioned—perhaps Fate has another purpose for them in mind. In this tale, Fate instead plucked the concept of "Emiya Shirou" from a world line entirely separate from this one, tapping into that world's Throne like it was copying a cheat sheet.

Thus did this Emiya Shirou emerge, a fully formed copy of a version of Emiya Shirou that was, at its base, impossible.

He was Emiya Shirou, the Last Master of Chaldea.

He was a storm of coincidences wrapped up into one being. His real father had been Emiya Kouhei, born in place of Kiritsugu, and was a magus loyal to his Crest. He was the youngest born among many, and was coincidentally named Shirou. He was given away to be taught by other magi, for he could not inherit the Emiya legacy. He had distinguished himself as a failure of a magus, but like Kiritsugu, he would stake his claim on a reputation of blood and gunpowder, earning him the name "Heretic Reaper". In this way, he crossed paths with the Animusphere family, and from there, Chaldea.

This Emiya Shirou was so far removed from the Emiya Shirou of the burning worldline. They only looked the same, had the same name, practiced similar methodologies, and possessed the same general personality (with a few exceptions) and aspirations; but they were entirely different people, technically speaking. He possessed the Reality Marble "Unlimited Blade Works", but it was sourced differently, even if the resulting magecraft was exactly the same. But it was this technicality: this paradox of similarity and difference, that allowed him to represent the loophole that was exploited. This was _not _the Emiya Shirou that could legally be summoned; but legally speaking, he was enough of a different existence that he _could _be summoned—as both Master and Servant.

Sure enough, there were other "Emiya Shirou"s on his worldline. Even a few became heroes in their own right, or became Counter Guardians, just like their counterparts in the Burning World. But peculiarly, the Master candidate could only come from here, for it was only here that the "possibility" could be plucked.

* * *

Fuyuki.

The burning city.

He was here again.

The first time—on that desperate first day—he didn't know why this random Japanese city had been chosen as the first singularity. It was only now, with the knowledge that had been placed in his brain from the summoning, that a vague understanding came to him.

Fate was strong here. This was best exemplified by his arriving here twice—and both times as a Master on a last, desperate attempt to save the world.

"Why did you leave her behind?" came a voice from behind him.

"I wanted to save her from this," he replied. He turned his head to greet the voice's owner. "Mashu."

"Senpai, my love," she said in reply. There stood his old friend, Servant, comrade, and lover. It was strange—it had either been a very long time since they'd seen each other, or it had only been just a moment ago. Yet still, even now as a Servant that he could summon as part of his current abilities _as _a Servant himself, she looked as strong and beautiful as ever.

Currently she wore the outfit she had worn when she was but a humble Demi-Servant, a long time ago at the start of it all. Her features were definitely older and a bit more developed, to reflect his memory of her when last he saw her. Her silvery hair was longer, free as her spirit. Her face, with one side shrouded by her bangs, was more mature, lined by age yet undiminished in beauty. Placed on her back was Galahad's shield, symbol of the Round Table.

"You know in your heart that you do her no favors," Mashu replied, shaking her head. "Idiot senpai."

He smiled at her affectionate words. "You do have a point. Perhaps I'm wrong for trying to make it different. For hoping that _she_ could be different, this time. Because this time, I can't be there for her."

"_You're _here, senpai."

"Summoned by a wretched world that doesn't know when to give up. I can be no Master, no senpai," he said, a bit scathingly. "I apologize, I know that the 'me' from long ago has gotten his rest and made his peace; and I am but a reflection of it. But still…"

"I know my friend," Mashu said, her voice gentle and brave, taking his hand in hers. "I know. As some of the others would say, 'Don't overthink it, idiot Shirou.' So let's do this for now. Show this world how a Master of Chaldea did it, Emiya Shirou. He has saved the world enough times that other worlds now dare summon you."

Shirou paused as if to think. There were enemies right below them—wraiths and fiends born from the flames of the singularity. But he paid them no mind—no, he gave his attention to the enormous task that laid ahead of him. Once more he was that younger, wilder, reckless version of him, who had dashed into the wreckage to attempt to save one girl. He was a man who dreamed he could save the world, unaware of the enormous price.

"Thirty minutes," he said aloud. "What a drag. And the resummoning time is unknown."

"Then I'll make the thirty minutes count, Senpai," his Servant said. Mashu was only here by virtue of the "Noble Phantasm" granted to him as a Servant. She was an extension of his power, but would only last for a brief time, as he now knew, as if by instinct.

"Go."

Mashu raised her shield. "Servant Shielder. Mashu Kyrielight, engaging!" Together, Master and Servant jumped down, into the fray.

* * *

The first mass of enemies had been defeated. It had been effortless on Mashu's part, as she had gone toe to toe with more powerful beings in the past—and by herself at that. And these were weak constructs, and were a mere byproduct of the singularity: they were not created specifically to battle enemy Servants.

"Our main objective is to secure a path to the director," Shirou said.

"Are you sure she's here, Senpai?" Mashu asked.

"That is a huge possibility. I am also sensing mana signatures from that direction. It could be a Servant, but it's a fair chance it's the Director." Olga Marie had been a friend, then an off-again, on-again lover. She had earned his trust, and he had gained hers in turn, but their relationship had always been rocky from start to finish.

Mashu nodded. "Then let us hurry. We need to maximize my presence here."

Once, Shirou could rely on his own forged technique: the Projection of an theoretically infinite number of swords. But his Servant self knew instinctively that he no longer had access to it. It was perhaps a quirk of being a strange "Master"-type existence. This image that had been summoned of Emiya Shirou was an incomplete facsimile with only the major parts built in. And Emiya Shirou had been known more for being the Last Master, than for the Unlimited Blade Works.

Still, it made things a bit more interesting. Where typically he could count on supporting Mashu and his other Servants with a well-placed Projection, now he was completely powerless, except to quickly summon more Servants to cover him. That was the extent of his abilities, as he currently assessed it.

"Detecting signatures: they're close, Senpai!" Mashu called from in front of him. Still, as a Servant his parameters were a bit enhanced. His natural speed, for example, were such that he could now keep up with Mashu running at a typical Servant's pace, where before he had to rely on another Servant to carry him (typically Mashu herself).

They heard a scream. The two recognized the voice. "Yep, that's definitely her." Shirou glanced at his hand, to remind himself that he no longer had Command Seals. "Mashu, hurry!" he urged, a little uncomfortable that he could no longer rely on the Command Seal's tactical advantages.

Down below, at the center of a crater stood a woman, surrounded by monsters. Mashu plunged into the thick of it, swinging her shield around in wide, precise arcs. Needless to say, what had once been a hefty challenge for a newbie Demi-Servant was routine now for Mashu, who defeated all enemies in less time than it took to drink a glass of water.

"Wh-who… Is that you, Mashu Kyrielight? From Team A?" Olga-Marie said, in a shrill voice.

"Mashu Kyrielight, reporting for duty, Director," Mashu greeted, once the enemies were cleared.

"H-how on earth is this possible—and you, who are you?"

The words stung, for it was as if she did know Shirou by face. But that was fine—he knew things would be different for every timeline. His being here was proof enough. That Olga didn't recognize him was another: in his past they had met before Chaldea began formal operations.

"I am also another Servant, allied to Chaldea," he said smoothly, with a bow. He hesitated. "Shirou, at your service."

"A Servant..? And allied to… Never mind. If so, who is your Master?"

Mashu looked at him. He also took a second to pause, before answering, "I have no Master," he said. "Though in a sense I am not a Stray either. I do not know why I was summoned here, but here I am." Which was true, in a way.

Olga's eyes widened. "T-Then, perhaps you can try…! Would you Contract with me?"

Shirou wanted to smile, but knew that would only get him a punch in the face. "I do apologize, but I can sense even without taking a look that it would be impossible." It was another truth. Back in his time, Olga-Marie, though an excellent magus in her own right, had zero ability to be a Master. It was something that had always rankled her the whole time he'd known her, which was also why she always remained in loggerheads with him, even when they'd become friends.

Now that he was a Servant, some things were instinctive, like this moment, when he could already tell that there was no way he could Contract with Olga-Marie, no matter how much he wished it.

The Director frowned heavily at his answer, but said nothing more as she acceded the point. She turned away with a huff. "We have to find a way to resolve this Singularity," she said. "It's the only way we can return to Chaldea."

"I shall defer to your authority," Shirou said. He knew what to do, but asked anyway. "What must we do?"

"For now, we must investigate. And that means you must escort me, Servant, if you are truthful about your claim to serve Chaldea."

"I accept," he said.

Olga nodded approvingly. Then she turned and pointed in a direction. "Then, let us head in that direction. I sense a surge in mana over there."

Mashu signaled him. With Olga's back turned, she did not see Mashu's body emit motes of light, as she slowly faded away. The thirty minutes was up.

"Good luck, Senpai," she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

He could not help but feel a deep sadness when she disappeared completely, despite knowing in his bones that he could summon her again. It appeared that Mashu could not be summoned for some time after dematerializing, which meant he had to rely on other Servants for combat. He thus hurried after Olga-Marie, whose mind was focused on something else that she never noticed the exchange.

"Damn. Why is there still no word from Chaldea?" Olga-Marie muttered aloud. Shirou thought that strange too, but in a way the strange nature of singularities could easily explain it. In his time, Dr. Roman had contacted Mashu, who was obviously not here. Since then, the doctor had explained that contacting a person inside a singularity was a science unto itself, and that nothing was absolute. Perhaps in this time, the doctor would never be able to make contact.

"Enemies ahead," Shirou announced. "Stay back, Director."

"Alright. Wait a second, where's Mashu—" Shirou charged forward, and placed one Servant in his mind. "Assassin!"

After a flash of light, a white skull-shaped mask clad in shadows appeared, drifting over the battlefield. "I have come again, Master," it said. It moved swiftly to engage the enemies, striking like an unrelenting dervish into their ranks.

Shirou remained on standby, ready to summon another Servant if needed. But with how powerful his Servants had become; it was logical to conserve his energy by summoning only one at a time—especially with the time limit present. It was also efficient: as was now being proven, Assassin was just as capable of handling the small trash with the same speed as Mashu.

With the battle won, Assassin returned to his side, clinging close like she was his personal shadow.

"Shirou," Olga-Marie said, panting as she ran close. Assassin hissed at his ear, as if she wanted the Director gone. "What… is… But where is Mashu?"

"I do believe there is some misunderstanding, Director," Shirou said. He chose his words carefully. "I and that person are not allied, nor do I know her purpose. She disappeared just as soon as we arrived here. I know not why, and she did not choose to tell me."

"Then that's… Did she get Rayshifted back? Damn!" Olga-Marie bit her lip, glaring at Shirou as if it was his fault (well, it kind of was). "I pray you don't spontaneously leave as well."

He bowed. "I hope to answer your expectations. In any case, this one," he introduced Assassin, "… Is not a Servant, but a shade that is part of my Noble Phantasm. Do be informed, for she is an ally, like myself." It was a bald lie, but he decided that saddling the woman with explanations about his powers would have to wait for another day.

"I'll keep that in mind," Olga groused. "In any case, we should keep moving. I have a feeling that solving whatever is the cause of this singularity is the only way to undo it."

She really was brilliant, to have arrived at that conclusion. Shirou could only shake his head to himself in awe.

* * *

It did not take much longer before they met a stronger enemy—an actual Servant. A "shadow Servant", as Shirou remembered, were ill-formed, incomplete shades exhibiting limited power, owing to a flaw in its composition: like a blade missing steps in its construction.

Still, they would be much stronger than the usual enemy, based on his experience.

Assassin was the one who detected it. "Master, a strong enemy ahead. Enemy Servant."

He narrowed his eyes at the figure that darted through the burning ruins, its target unmistakable: their small party.

"Judging by that weapon… it's a Lancer." Shirou muttered. "Director, incoming!"

Olga-Marie shrieked as Assassin intercepted the initial strike. Judging by the way the enemy Lancer was knocked back, Assassin was still strong.

"Good girl," Shirou muttered. "All those strengthening regimes… You're still as strong as ever." A wry bitter feeling swept through him recalling all the trials and tribulations of his time as a Master. Oh, he wouldn't give up those experiences for the world, but at the time they had been quite an exhausting affair. "But still, we shouldn't take any chances. Can you use your Noble Phantasm?"

"On this one?" Assassin asked. "Master, you know how mine works. My blades are more suited for a group."

"So is that a no?"

"Watch me." And then, before the enemy Lancer could recover, Assassin's form morphed into a cyclone of whirling blades, which crashed against its form with vindictive force. Blood sprayed; the shadowy Servant was instantly eviscerated.

"Good work," Shirou pronounced, watching as the enemy's mana signature disappeared.

"I always do good work. Or better," Assassin said, as if chiding him.

"Is it over?" Olga Marie asked from behind him. He checked the time, and knew that Assassin was about to go. He nodded at her. The skull-mask nodded, and bowed out, using its Presence Concealment to hide its eventual dematerialization.

"Yes, Director," Shirou said. "We have eliminated the enemy Servant."

"Whew. Wait, Servant? There are Servants here?" Olga said, mouth agape.

He tried not to raise a brow. "They exist, they are hostile, that is usually enough for me." He didn't know if the Director knew of the existence of the Counter Force, and of its tendency to summon Servants into singularities. And that was not even mentioning the fact that their enemies were also usually Servants…

"Very well. Then let us proceed with more caution. We must treat any encountered Servants with utmost caution, but I do authorize you to strike first if that is your prerogative."

"Well now, isn't that a pickle?" came a drawling voice from behind. Olga jumped, surprised, while Shirou slowly turned. He had sensed their signature arrive just a few seconds ago, and had just been about to summon another Servant in defense. "That sort of attitude makes it hard to be diplomatic, you know?"

"Show yourself!" Olga shouted.

From out of the shadows emerged a man clad in animal pelt, wielding a wooden staff carved with ancient runic symbols. His instincts spoke clear to him: this was a Servant, though he did not recognize him. At least there was something else that was different to this world. He could guess this was a Caster from its look, but looks have deceived him plenty of times.

"Whoa now, that's a pretty sharp look you're giving me, Servant. Almost reminds me of someone I fought, a long time ago… Anyway, you can drop the hostility—for now. If I wanted you and the little missy dead I could have dropped you from afar, or better yet, allowed you to keep on going how you were until you meet _him._"

"Him?" Olga echoed.

The Servant jerked a thumb off to the side. "Yeah, that big lump of concentrated mana right over there, all wrapped up in a ferocious package that'd make any veteran warrior quake in their boots. Almost _bestial _it is, and I'm pretty sure it could've squashed the both of you flat."

"I see. Thank you for the warning," Shirou said.

"Don't thank me yet. We ain't done negotiating. But where are my manners? I am Servant Caster, and right now I'm thinking you're the ones that'll help solve this whole mess."

"What do you mean?" Olga asked.

"I mean this was all just a normal Holy Grail War, before all this madness set in. Turned all the other combatants into those shadowy creatures that don't deserve to be called Servants, and me all alone, not knowing what to do."

"A Holy Grail War? But records indicate that this area did not feature a Grail War of this nature at this exact time…" Olga trailed off.

The Servant shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. And now, to top it off, there's some sort of massive surge of mana all the way over there. And I have the strongest feeling that nothing good's gonna come out of it."

That was the Great Grail, which was the source of this singularity. His old self hadn't discovered the fact until much later. But he was sure this Olga-Marie would be just as decisive in targeting the Grail—or more importantly its protector—in order to seal off this singularity for good.

"…So you're proposing an alliance?" Olga-Marie was saying.

"A temporary state, until we reach the site of the Greater Grail."

"What will you do then? Betray us?"

"I still haven't decided," the Servant replied, giving another shrug. "Things have gone so much to shit that it makes me think there's really no point in continuing to pursue the original aims of the Grail War. Look around you. It's hell on earth. Either you bail, or you become a hero."

"Well, I shan't say no to an alliance. Besides, I'm sure Shirou could handle you," Olga said.

"Bold of you to say that," Shirou said, raising his brow.

"Well, she ain't wrong about that, big guy. Judging by the quick way you dispatched Lancer, you're at a level far above normal Servants. Which was the reason why I chose diplomacy with you, too."

In the end, though no formal compact was made, the three of them decided to solder on as allies until they could reach the are around the Great Grail. They charged through a gauntlet of monsters, and fought through several other shadowy Servants.

* * *

Rider. Assassin. Two more enemy Servants fell, at the hands of Jeanne D'Arc—the Dragon Witch. In the burning city, she was in her element, and the flames arose like living things to surround and protect the trio, while also obliterating all who opposed them. Such was her power that the enemy Servants did not have a chance to fight back, impressing Caster.

The volatile saint demanded an audience with him when she was close to fading.

"When next you draw me out, I hope it is not for anything as boring as battle, my Master," she said pointedly. Though she could be considered a "fake" made in the image of the real Joan of Arc, she was still as beautiful and unique as ever.

"Oh, you mean like cooking? Or baking perhaps?" he asked.

"Goddamnit, I'm being serious here you dolt!" Jeanne cried, her face flushed like a tomato.

"So am I. I would love to cook something with you, Jeanne," he said, brushing hair from her forehead. "Just the two of us. All alone."

The Servant's cheeks swelled, and she was about to say something before she faded away. Shirou sighed. He'd meant every word he'd told the Dragon Witch, and it had been somewhat lonely to see her go.

"You're powerful for a Servant," Caster told him later. "I'd wager you could even overpower me. Now I'm thinking you can definitely 'win' it all. I don't think the holy sword user can defeat you or your toys."

He knew the man was referring to Artoria Alter, who was guarding the Grail. It was the same situation here then. So far, so good. He also knew that there should still be one more obstacle to surpass, which was—

"Down!" Shirou roared, pushing Olga's soft body to the ground. Bolts of energy whizzed through the air, exploding all around them.

"Archer," Caster said. "He's a real pain, with that sort of vantage point. Why, if I had a spear, I could definitely try to gut him despite it all, but I'm just a holy man now." Caster looked at him. "Got a plan, Shirou?"

The space before them was wide-open, as he remembered, with little to no cover to utilize. That gave the enemy Archer a huge advantage, as he could snipe and reposition as he pleased. This would force them to move swiftly, finding what cover that they could, and brave the gauntlet of arrows to reach the other side.

In his time, Mashu was of great help with her shield, allowing them to move forward to engage the Archer in close quarters. Unfortunately, Shirou learned a hard lesson then: a Servant was never to be underestimated. That Archer was just as deadly in close combat, and ended up wounding Mashu before its defeat.

Shirou would carry that lesson for the rest of his life.

"How would you deal with it?" Shirou shot back.

"I wouldn't," Caster said. "I'm a Caster. Typically we'd have found Archer's Master, subverted them, then we do what we please with the Servant himself. But this guy don't play by the rules. We don't have Masters anymore, but he's still going. And I sure can't match that guy in a straight up fight."

He could try Mash again. He reached into his soul, and found that it was still impossible. He could grasp at her image, but she was so far away that he couldn't reach her. Therefore, he searched for the next best thing, someone who shared her class—

"Shielder!" he said under his breath.

The Amazon clad in near-naked battle-gear and wielding an enormous bronze shield emerged from the light. She wasted no time and immediately charged into the killing zone. As expected, the rain of bolts came; but her shield denied it all, like they were mere children's darts, made to amuse. He stayed back under cover with the others, not willing to give the Archer a chance to distract her.

She disappeared into the ruins on the far distance. There was silence for an instant, until flashes of light and loud noises began to explode from within the flames. Battle had been engaged. As the others looked on, Shirou rose from cover and started jogging over the fields.

Some might have called him foolish, for exposing himself to risk, but he was confident. Well, some might then accuse him of being overconfident, but he knew his Servants well. Each and every one of them had been forged in the flames of brutal, unrelenting battle. The only risks of failure, as he could guess, was the predictable loss of energy needed to summon them—which would be the fault of the system that summoned him without a Master.

_From where was he drawing his energy then?_ He thought. A question for later.

There was one thing he could fault his current Shielder: she was ruthlessly efficient. There was no sign of the enemy Archer after its defeat, so he could not catch a glimpse of its appearance. She then stood, silent, like an ancient Greek statue (though he didn't say that phrase out loud), awaiting his orders. In spite of her class, he could almost call her a damned Berserker for her attitude.

Unlike the others he had summoned, he wasn't quite as close with _this _version of Shielder. There was something to her personality that kept things strictly professional—despite the fact that like the rest she was utterly loyal. Like Jeanne d'Arc Alter, it was another "altered" version of Shielder (and was also in a different class), who stepped easily into "pointless fornication", as this Shielder put it.

"Good work, Shielder. Any problems?"

"…Just one," the Amazon replied. She hesitated, then shook her heada. "Well, no, it's not really a problem. But that Archer…"

"Hm?"

"It's nothing, Master. Perhaps it was just my imagination."

Shirou frowned. "Is it at all related to our overall situation?"

"No. Merely a private fancy."

He stared at her, then sensed Olga and Caster coming in from behind. "Fine. Let's keep moving, shall we?"

* * *

"Here we are." After scaling a mountain full of enemies, Shielder made her final salute, leaving Shirou to deal with fighting Saber. According to Caster, she was still definitely the Artoria Alter he knew. He could even summon her—well, one of her. But that would be counter-intuitive. His Artoria Alter tended to be very destructive, and with two of them in one space it could end up destabilizing the whole place, maybe even the singularity.

In his own battle here, Mashu had used up all her energy to deflect the dread Excalibur's energies with her deployed Noble Phantasm, while Shirou used his Unlimited Blade Works to attempt to assassinate her. The Servant had been quick to react to their plan, and they might have failed then had he not summoned his first ever Servant, who dealt the final blow.

First, he would have to assess her potency. He knew he could overpower her with summoning more than one Servant, but as long as a Grail was involved, things could spiral quickly out of control.

"Caster, do you think you could support the Director?" he asked.

"With what? My little stick? Or do you mean some rune enchantments?"

Shirou glanced at Olga, who looked genuinely worried. She must have sensed the immense font of dark miasma that was so thick in this place. "Frankly, I would rather you both stay back, but we're not sure if things can get out of hand. In case I bite it, you both have to think of a quick plan to get rid of a high-class Saber."

"What? But we can't do that!" Olga said.

"Don't worry. I'll try to give you an opening."

They found Saber, exactly as he remembered her. She stood with sword planted on the ground, guarding the Grail behind her like a loyal knight. Her expression did not change when she saw them, as if she had anticipated their arrival.

"It is impressive that you have defeated the other Servants," Saber said. "But know that it is still ultimately futile. I have vowed to guard this place, and you shall never defeat me."

"We'll see about that," Shirou muttered.

Saber looked at him directly. "I sense no Master among you… but you, Servant. I sense you will be the one to challenge me. Come, if you dare."

Shirou stared back at her in silence for a good whole moment before he broke down in laughter.

"What amuses you, jester?" Saber asked frostily.

"It's nothing, I apologize…" Shirou exhaled. He would not admit that Saber's last words were exactly something that his own Saber would say to him—when he was balls deep inside her. Still, it was very bad form to laugh, especially in the presence of this Saber. "Still, I suppose now we must fight. Come, Mordred!"

In times of uncertainty, all efforts were to be concentrated on achieving maximum effect. In this case, the altered Saber, with parameters boosted to an unknown extent by the Grail would need quick, overwhelming force to prevent things from spiraling out of control.

Enter his Mordred—not the base Mordred, but a Mordred outfitted specifically to hunt "Artoria" of all shapes and sizes. Her armor was filled with eldritch symbols of grudges and hate, jagged and warped, radiating a menacing glow. Her sword, symbol of unfulfilled promises, cast its baleful light upon the surroundings, and gleamed with the hungry anticipation of hunting another Artoria's neck.

Mordred the "Bloodied" stepped onto the battlefield, ready to fight. Despite her appearance, she was still a Saber class. She glanced silently back at him before grunting. "We meet again, my Master. It has been… very long."

"Yes, old friend. You know why you're here?"

Saber glared at his Saber, its gaze burning with particular hatred. He was sure the same sentiment was reflected from the son to the father.

"Saving the world again—only, you need my special talents for this moment. Hmph."

"Can you do it?"

From within her fanged helm came a peculiar sound, like she was coughing. But it was laughter: emanating from chapped lips and hoarse, battle-worn throat. "Master. You're a natural jester."

"How dare you show your face here, traitor!" Saber Alter cried. Excalibur flashed in all its glory.

"Have at you, Father! Hraaaagh!" Mordred's own dread blade exploded with fiendish light.

They were as comets blazing over the ground. Their mighty clash shattered the earth around them, forcing Shirou to brace against the chunks of earth that rose in furious waves.

Artoria, fed by the infinite power of the Grail was mighty and terrible to behold, swinging her blade with ruthless precision. It was gratifying to see his Mordred match her strike for strike, parrying deadly strokes with unmatched brutality. It was a contest for the ages, to be sure, but they were on a time table here. So Shirou had to do his part.

"Saber! Finish her off! I'll give you a cookie!"

There was no hesitation in her reply. "You got it. Hear that, Father? Master needs you off the game so bad he's gonna let me do whatever I want later. So this is goodbye."

Saber roared. "You damned wretches! I'll slaughter you all!" A familiar light blazed from the edge of her blade. "Ex—"

"Oh no you don't!" Mordred said with a laugh as she grabbed the blade with her gauntlet. The faerie letters on the blade seethed, as if they were just as angered as its owner by the enemy's audaciousness. She smashed her helmet into the enemy's beautiful face, drawing blood. Shirou cringed, but she was the enemy, so mercy was out of the window.

Saber reeled back, but was quick to react. With a determined thrust, she stabbed her sword deep into Mordred's gut. Shirou disliked the sight of the blade jutting out the back of someone he cared for, but it was the necessary thing. And besides, this was also crucial to activating Mordred's Noble Phantasm.

"Gotcha, daddy-o," Mordred drawled, once more gripping the blade in her gut. "That's another one of you fucks I get to kill."

"What are you doing, fool?" Saber said.

"For my treachery, I'm going back to hell. But you know what? _I'm taking you with me_." Mordred's indulgent cackle was lost in the ensuing implosion as her Noble Phantasm activated. It was a self-destructive curse, woven onto the armor she'd worn. For as long as the Battle of Camlann was repeated, the curse would never fail to activate: devouring the enemy Artoria in a wave of destructive energy, powerful enough to destroy Galahad's mighty shield—but also consuming Mordred in the process.

When the implosion ended in smoke and rubble, nothing was left of the combatants but a crater gouged into the earth.

Shirou exhaled. It was always distasteful to send his Servants off with a Noble Phantasm like that, even if back then a Servant could be regenerated by Chaldea's systems. And even now, with this new system of him as a Servant summoning other Servants, making Mordred die was never an easy thing to stomach. He would have to do his best to spoil her as he'd promised. She at least deserved that.

"Unbelievable," Caster said from behind him. "You actually did it. You actually beat the wench."

Despite the relief surging through him, he turned about warily. "We could have used your help."

The man scratched his head. "I'm pretty sure the bitch could shrug off anything this body can throw at her. Well, not like it matters now. You did it! You beat her."

"Now what?" Olga-Marie said, who'd also come up. "I can sense that the Servant is no longer here, but there remains the problem of the singularity. Or more pertinently, that big mass of mana that's supposed to be a 'Grail'."

"The normal thing would be to claim it…" Caster stopped, and looked down on himself. "… If you were a Servant, and if you were given a fucking _chance!_" Shirou saw that the man was already disappearing from the feet up, which meant that the Grail was losing power. The Singularity was almost done. "Well, whatever. I had my fun. Saw something interesting too." He looked at Shirou. "You need me for anything at all, just call. It might not be as a Caster, sure, but Cu Chulainn's always up to kick in some heads."

The Servant disappeared. Shirou blinked at the spot where he'd been. "What the hell…? Cu Chulainn? But she's…" His train of thought was interrupted by a sudden earthquake. He looked around, watching for any threat.

"Well now, isn't that a surprise? Such a decisive end to the whole mess, and all without even a Master present! The world is certainly an amazing place!"

He froze. He knew that voice. He hated that voice. He frowned, as Olga pushed past him. "Lev! It's you!" Shirou watched as an old nemesis, Lev Lynor, appeared, floating downward from the air. He grit his teeth, seeing the wide, infuriating smile on the man's face. He had always longed to wipe that grin from his face. He had succeeded, a lifetime ago, banishing him and his ilk to oblivion.

But why was he here, now? Why were the chain of events different? Lev Lynor had been working against Chaldea from the start, but he had only ever shown his face halfway through, by exploiting Director Olga's feelings and almost bringing a certain singularity to chaos. He had become a constant scourge from then on, toying with their efforts in the singularities that followed, all until the end, when they had defeated Goetia.

That he was here lead to a distressing revelation: everything was different in this world. And there was no time to be complacent.

"Director, we must leave, now!" Shirou shouted. Lev Lynor was a dangerous element, and even as a Servant he knew the dangers. Far from just being a skilled magus, he was also a greater existence also called a "Demon Pillar", a nexus of power that should never be underestimated.

"What? What are you talking about?" Olga asked him. "Professor Lynor is an ally of Chaldea; no, he's one of the leading architects!"

"He's been fooling you lot! He's a traitor to the cause, and even worse—"

"Oh? I see you are quite informed, Servant. How interesting." Lev tilted his hat, and appraised him with cold eyes. "An intriguing enigma…"

"What are you both talking about? We should—"

"_You _should be silent, my dear. The world can do with less of your pointless barking."

Olga looked surprised. "Wha—"

"We had originally calculated that no one, or at least only one inferior specimen would be allowed to live from Chaldea's attack," Lev said. "And that the Demi-Servant, Mashu Kyrielight, would be here to witness the beginning of despair. But our plans have been much derailed. I don't know what you are, stranger, but you've upset so much of our plans it's almost an annoyance." The demon laughed. "Not that it matters. This world is doomed either way. However much you struggle, humanity's demise has been calculated from the dawn of time."

Shirou made his plans: he would have to try triple summoning: one mobile Servant to evacuate the Director, while the other two distract—no, would it be wiser to summon two who could destroy a Demon Pillar? The Beasts could certainly—

"… Now my dear, we simply cannot be postponing the revelation," Lev said, addressing Olga. "It was a small mercy that Trismegistus ended up transporting what remained of you to the Singularity, though such a glitch is rather unfathomable."

"Lev? What are you talking about? Speak sense!" Olga cried. A deep foreboding came over Shirou. _They had to leave! _

"Well think about it. The bomb I placed in Chaldea ended up sending you through a convoluted path _here_. You, who have never had the ability to Rayshift, let alone become a Master—you have achieved the impossible! This is something that humans all desire is it not! Rejoice! Such delicious irony must mean the world loves you very much."

Olga had paled. The implication were sinking in for Shirou—though he refused to believe it. Logically he had processed what the demon was saying, but the incongruity of the situation made his decision-making go haywire.

"Lev…" she whispered. "Wh-what are you saying…?"

The man leered. "You're dead, my dear. Just a batch of lingering atoms given the form and aspect of the late you—have you not noticed that you have never once hungered? Or that you can feel the heat of the singularity, but never once has sweat dripped from your face? You're an after-image of that glorious disaster, Olga-Marie Animusphere."

"No… That can't be! I can't be!"

"Director!" Shirou shouted, now desperate.

The malevolence in his laugh was spine-chilling, and in his experience they never led to anything good. Shirou thrust out his hand, but just as he was about to summon another Servant, space warped around them.

"I have connected directly to Chaldea," Lev said. "There, do you see it?"

As Olga screamed at the desolation reflected in the ruined Chaldea, as well as the doom that was inscribed upon the face of CHALDEAS, Shirou gritted his teeth.

"Mashu!"

"Master." The Mashu who had defeated manifold threats to humanity, appeared. But it was too late—or it was likely that the demon had been right, and that there was nothing that could be done for the Director.

She fell into the abyss, her screams echoing in Shirou's voice and piercing through to the depths of his soul. Once, he had loved the woman, in a different time. Despite their differences, they had learned to respect each other, trust each other, even rely on each other. His Olga-Marie had not died like this, and was "safe" as far as he was concerned. But that did not make seeing this Olga die like this any easier. Never had he failed the Director, and yet now—

"Damn you Flauros!" he shouted. "You'll pay for this! I swear it!" He had not felt this way in a long while: helpless, and torn from all certainty. He had approached this situation as a Servant with plenty of assumptions, which had now been proven wrong.

This was a world where there was no Last Master to take up the reins.

This was a world where Cu Chulainn was not a woman.

This was a world where the Director had died long before he'd arrived.

The demon stared at him; its eyes having lost the bemused malice with which it had regarded Olga-Marie. Now they were piercing, as if it were only one of a pair from out of a thousand eyes appraising him, and Mashu.

"Struggle if you must, but nothing you do or will do shall change what has already been calculated from the beginning of time." The demon crossed his arms. "But perhaps it would be prudent to account for the slightest chance of your succeeding… We must calculate this."

The world seethed and shook around them. The singularity was ending. And with a snap of his fingers, the pensive demon disappeared, leaving Shirou and Mashu alone.

"Wait! Damn it!" He punched the ground, as if he could bring the bastard back with just his fists.

"Senpai…"

He exhaled loudly. "Yeah. We failed." And more than that, they had alerted the crafty Demon Pillars to his existence. They might have saved the singularity, but they had lost the Director, and now Goetia might be more determined to stop them.

"How can you escape, senpai?" Mashu asked. "Dr. Roman wouldn't have your signature, since technically you haven't Rayshifted."

"I'm sure I'll manage. I'm a Servant now. There's probably a system for it," Shirou replied faintly.

"If that's so, then…"

"I know. Thanks for coming again, Mashu. I'll see you later."

Mashu smiled. She went close, grabbed his shoulder, and went on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips. "See you later, Senpai," she said in a whisper. "Don't worry. We're here with you."

Shirou stared all around him, as reality degraded and disintegrated. The world was empty, except for him. He was the last man on this singularity.

He closed his eyes. She was right. This was no time to let despair ride him. The world must be saved, and Goetia defeated once more: which meant he had to start planning. He had to prepare, even for the worst.

A light surrounded him, and in the next second, he too disappeared.

* * *

**_Apocrypha: The Beast Intercepts (Kiara Sesshyouin) _**available below (mature content):

**P atreon: Shurpuff**


	2. Chapter 2

Shirou enjoyed mealtimes. He always looked forward to the peaceful calm that came whenever he was preparing food for someone, or enjoying something someone else made. One made the best of taking meals, especially during his time as the Last Master of Chaldea—as a human he still required his basic needs. But there was often little time to enjoy a hearty meal during a singularity, and it was a rare moment to be offered food and a quiet moment to savor it.

That was the reason why he had many fond memories of "his" Chaldea. The food was middling, as no fresh ingredients could be acquired in the wake of the apocalypse; but there was merit to be found in making soup out of bits of canned produce and grit, turning stale repasts into literal feasts. And he always benefited from the knowledge offered by his Servants, from old specialties gathered from all four corners of the world, to dishes that had never been made. Eating with everyone was thus a haven, a brief respite from the immense responsibility that loomed before them.

Shirou dipped his spoon into the familiar bowl, and put the gruel to his lips. He tasted it. He shrugged; it wasn't terrible, but it wasn't that good either. In truth, he didn't even need to eat now that he was but a Servant. Though he no longer derived nourishment from it (supplied by a means that currently baffled the resident experts of Chaldea), he still derived emotion from it. As he was an echo of the Emiya Shirou who had saved the world once, he would also possess the requisite personality, including his likes and dislikes.

He sighed, and spooned more food into his mouth. He could sense the eyes, visible and invisible, trained on him, despite the cafeteria's current empty state. Chaldea's surveillance continued.

He had returned to Chaldea, as he had predicted to Mashu, without needing Dr. Roman's assistance. Well, there had been a little detour along the way, but he was sure _that one _wasn't responsible for sending him Chaldea's way. He had rematerialized in the Control Room, where he met this world's Mashu, Dr. Romani, and the Servant Leonardo Da Vinci.

They were obviously suspicious of him; if the positions had been reserved, he would definitely feel the same. He'd debriefed them on what had occurred in the Fuyuki singularity, as well as Director Olga's fate and Lev Lynor's treachery. He'd then described himself as a Servant that had been summoned directly into Chaldea, by a fluke of circumstance that he honestly could not explain.

Of the three, only Dr. Romani had been visibly relieved by his presence. Mashu remained wary of him, and as a fellow Servant Da Vinci looked the most suspicious of him. Still, the announcement was made to everyone in Chaldea, telling them he was a friendly, but he knew he was to be observed and kept on a tight leash. Understanding their suspicions, Shirou had gone directly to the cafeteria.

He sensed Mashu's arrival before he even saw her. The small slip of a girl hesitated, thinking to herself, before approaching his table.

"Um… hello."

"Please sit," he said, indicating the empty chair before him. Mashu nodded politely and took the proffered seat.

Observing that Mashu was dithering, Shirou attempted to ease her mood. He picked up a baby carrot slice and bit on it, silently crunching on it. "I never liked the food here. I was told we were supposed to all get VIP treatment in terms of our living arrangements, but somewhere along the way we lost it. Like the food. We used to have meals catered for each individual mage's preference. Then we were left with nothing but rations."

"Oh…" Mashu said. He didn't know what she thought of what he said.

"What kind of food do you like?" he asked.

"I… um, I've never really thought about it, to be honest," she replied. "I only eat what they give me."

"If I had my way, I'd be showing you why we call things food, or _food_. Servant or no, everyone deserves that epicurean delight, if only for a little while."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we'll make a trip of it, around the world, sampling all it can offer our tastebuds," Shirou said. Any of the singularities would also do, but he didn't want to mention that.

"Wow…" she said quietly. Her eyes glittered with something he'd recognized from his own Mashu: the hunger of one who desired to experience all that life could offer.

He picked at the gruel. "Do you have any questions for me? Feel free to ask away, Miss Mashu."

"Y-yes! I mean, no, not yet…" Mashu pursed her lips. "I wanted to thank you first… for saving me, s-sen—Mr. Emiya."

"I only did what I saw was right," Shirou said.

"I see…"

"You are a Demi-Servant, aye?"

"I…" she sighed. "I'm told that, yes. But somehow it's not really working with me. I know I have that power, but…" Her shoulders drooped.

Boy, his Mashu had definitely been right. Going into that singularity had been Mashu's literal baptism in blood and flame, and she had come through it all the better. He had saved this Mashu out of complete sympathy, but perhaps that had been the wrong choice.

"Don't worry. I know you have the power," he said it. "I know it, because I was there. I saw you… grow. I saw you accomplish it all, and more, at the end of the world and the precipice of the abyss."

"You mean…" Mashu said, breathless, her eyes wide. "A-are you really speaking true? Were you really a Master of Chaldea in your time?"

He put down his spoon. He stared at her for a full moment, then nodded.

"Yes. Though the circumstances were quite different. The most obvious one, of course, being that I was not a Servant, nor did I appear as one."

Mashu seemed to have forgotten to breath for a few moments. She exhaled a breath. "I… I see. Was… I…?"

Shirou closed his eyes. "Yes. You, or rather _she _was one of my closest friends."

She looked away. "S-so this must be really awkward, huh."

"…In a way, but let that not cloud our relations from now on. If you're concerned about it, you and her are entirely different. I will not judge you for what she has done, nor will any of her standards overshadow you. You are your own person, Mashu Kyrielight." He chuckled bitterly to himself. "And besides that, it has been made very clear to me that our worlds are quite different. What I know then probably won't help us now."

"What do you mean? I mean… I know you told us that the Director was supposed to have lived, but…"

Shirou hesitated. He hadn't told anyone else, but he figured he owed Mashu this. "Well, for one thing, Lev Lynor was supposed to have been a casualty, and only later did we discover that he had been a villain from the start. Here, he has shown himself very early. He's still a damnable villain, though, so that helps keep our priorities the same."

"I didn't really know the man," Mashu admitted.

"Also, you were meant to have been there, with me on the singularity," he continuing. "But it appears that in 'this world' that is not the case."

"It's…strange to contemplate that there are other worlds out there with realities far different from this," Mashu said. "It disturbs me on a fundamental level."

"I know. 'I' wasn't even aware this was possible. But here I am. And the ripples, to put it simply, are already spreading wide."

"Ripples?" Mashu looked thoughtful. "Ah, like in a story about time travel? I'm familiar with that sort of fiction."

Shirou smiled. "Just so. I'm not too familiar with it myself, but the idea's probably the same."

"Then, do you think your version of events won't happen here, Senpai—oh, sorry! I mean, Mister—" she'd stopped, gasping.

"Please, call me Senpai if you want," Shirou interrupted gently. "You're welcome to call me however you wish."

"I… I do apologize…" Mashu said, her voice tremulous. "It's just that, I've always wanted to call someone, 'senpai'. Does that seem strange to you? Or, no wait. Logically it's not, not to you, I mean. Assuming 'I' am the same Mashu you know."

"You definitely are. I guess some things are constant," Shirou said.

Mashu flushed, and shook her head. "This is a rather bizarre situation, but I am determined to get past this, for the sake of the world. Therefore, please take care of me, s-senpai." She bowed politely.

He returned the gesture. "Same here."

"Fuuu…" Mashu placed her hand on her chest, and breathed out. "Now that's like a big load off my chest…"

"Fou!"

Startled by the sound, Mashu jumped, as a familiar ball of fur whizzed past Shirou's sight. He was able to follow the thing's movements as it landed on the other side of the table.

The small, dog-like, cat-like, mysterious and terrifyingly deceptively mundane cryptozoological wonder stared back at him with innocent eyes. Shirou suppressed a shiver as memories came back to him of Fou the mighty, Fou the fearless.

"Ah, Fou-san! So you were there," Mashu said. "Allow me to introduce you, senpai. This is Fou, my friend."

"Hmmm… pleased…"

Mashu punched a fist to her palm. "Oh, that's right. You know him too, right? You know of Fou-san. I guess you could kind of call him Chaldea's personal mascot…"

Mashu's words faded away in his ears, replaced by an irritable buzzing sound, like the Devil's own cursed swarm festering in his mind. His throat went dry, the food in his mouth turning to ash as he felt transfixed by Fou's silent gaze. They were like little pale grey orbs, near translucent, like windows to a realm far beyond the reckoning of any man or Servant. He knew of Fou, as any wide-eyed innocent man is aware of the innocent territory demarcated for use as their home; unaware of the terrors, the unknowns lurking just out of sight in the tall grass, the murky eyes within the foggy hills just beyond the border, of the mutterings whistling through the trees of the woods outside their ken; everything they refuse to acknowledge within the cushioned safety of their own narrow awareness, which they shut out and barricade themselves from with fence and wall and other tools of fierce vigilance; born of fear they stay within their bounds, suffering not the presence nor the taint of the other within their midst, driving it out through blood and sweat and iron, until they were once more at the center of the universe, the sole captain of their ship; and in Fou there had been the start of his understanding of the futile barriers within everyone's minds, of how the three little pigs could never have repelled the wolf by straw, by brick, by stone; and in his case his house was but a transparent glass, fragile and transparent, easily overcome, easily shattered; Fou had been a comrade in every definition of the word, and then some more, of the type that the learned men of words failed to account for, wholly unaware of the beast in the underbrush; Fou was pet, was friend, was comrade, and more, much more, so thick and sure were the chains placed upon Fou that even their maker was wholly unaware of their forging, a necessary step to ensuring that no Beast wakes to find there are things it must do, things it must correct to conserve the nascent purity of things—

"_Senpai? Sennnpai_?"

"Eh… Huh." Shirou blinked. Fou was gone—he'd relocated to his perch on Mashu's shoulder, nuzzling against her neck like a sleeping cat. He patted his chest, and checked that everything was still working. "It's… It's nothing," he said, sighing in relief. It was as if he had woken from a terrifying dream. "So, was there anything else you wanted to ask?"

She nodded. "W-Well, if it's not too much trouble… Could you tell me about the places you went to?"

Shirou smiled.

* * *

He had only felt this much animosity before, emanating from enemies who wished only for his destruction. That it was hidden behind the pleasantly smiling face of the Mona Lisa made it all the more confusing.

He'd left Mashu after a round of questioning, and had been walking down the quiet halls of Chaldea, when the Servant Da Vinci cornered him and dragged him to a room. Inside, Dr. Romani was also there, though he didn't show hostility.

"Servant Shirou," Da Vinci said.

"Yes…?" He turned back to look at her.

"Is there anything in what you told Mashu Kyrielight that we should be concerned about?" she asked.

"Concerned?" he repeated, frowning. "What do you mean?"

She glanced behind him, towards the doctor. "Would you be able to divulge the end of your so-called journey, and the secrets that were unveiled therein?"

He raised a brow. He'd caught on to what they were getting at: if he really was the shade of someone who had been the Last Master of Chaldea once upon a time, then it stood to reason that he should have foreknowledge of what was to happen.

However, such a thing had already gone off-course with Lev Lynor discovering his presence, and therefore causing the chain of events to fluctuate wildly, leaving the future just as uncertain as before. He repeated all that to the two.

"Whatever I tell you will probably not help with predicting exactly how the enemy will act. All we realistically have is a battle plan that will be designed to weather all contingencies."

"But there are such things as constants," Da Vinci said. "You said it yourself: the Fuyuki singularity began on the same destructive note. It only deviated with the absence of the Master who might supposedly have been your stand-in, along with your summoning. You must divulge what you know; it's data that may be able to help. Even if things turn out quite different than what you remember."

No, the deviation was even further back, Shirou thought to himself. There had been no record of any Emiya Shirou joining the ranks of Chaldea, not even under an assumed name as he would have done. Shirou was conscious of the many ways he could obfuscate his presence in official records, and so far what he'd seen in the records had shown him that he had never even attempted to associate with Chaldea. He was not present in today's Chaldea, and neither was he a casualty. And that was not to discount the fact that "he" might long have died before ever meeting the Director, or that he was no soldier of fortune but a normal human and was therefore a pile of ash to decorate Goetia's ambitions.

He might not even have been born here.

Shirou sighed to himself. These two had been his close comrades back in his world, but of course that had been because they had endured much hardship together. At the start, Da Vinci had been quite indifferent to him for a long time.

In any case, it wasn't like he could divulge anything. And that was because—

"You're a Servant, Da Vinci, you should know how it works. There are many things we can tell our Masters. Our knowledge, our experience, even our very best works and deeds. Perhaps the truth of the world, inasmuch as we are aware that we are but distorted reflections of the 'real' thing and are, therefore, flawed. But you know there are things we cannot say. Things we should not say—and further, those we are even _forbidden _to say."

A frown crossed her face. "How would we know you're not lying. In fact, how would we be able to trust you with our lives if you aren't forthcoming?"

"I didn't say I won't—only that I can't," Shirou replied. "I _literally_ cannot give you the future, not that it was ever set in stone, anyway. You'll have to trust me on that."

"Trust? You?" Da Vinci said, sounding incredulous. "A mysterious Servant with no links to our system, summoned by mysterious means? Lev Lynor may have become a monstrous traitor but at least we know where he's coming from."

"No, you don't," Shirou said.

"Then tell us."

"He's an evil man, belonging to a very sinister organization. That is all I can really say."

"See, that's not good enough. We need to be drafting a plan going forward, and you're being exceptionally stubborn about it."

"Shirou-san," Dr. Roman, who had so far remained silent, then spoke, defusing the tension. "Please understand that we will be forever grateful to your timely arrival, as well as your aid in closing down one singularity. But please understand that we are only acting by what we experience in front of us. And at this early point, you are our greatest unknown as well as our best chance of survival. Thus, you can understand our efforts to start integrating you into our cause—for which I am personally grateful for, considering you were kind to Mashu."

"You were watching?" Shirou said, though he knew it was rather obvious.

"It's fine if you can't tell us anything," said Dr. Roman. Da Vinci looked like she wanted to protest, but he held up his hand. "But can we hold you to your promise of aid?" The doctor, eternally affable and cheery, looked very serious when he asked that question. He had only ever seen that look once—and that moment would forever be engraved in Shirou's memories.

"I will do my best, doctor."

"I see. Then we leave it in your hands. You have Chaldea's full support."

"Thank you. May I leave?"

"Before that, I would like to ask: what will you be doing next? What would you like Chaldea to do?"

"This is a very exceptional situation," Shirou stressed. "As of now, the only humans left in this world are working here, and the only one who can save it is bound to an existence that is entirely not human. But we need a human, as my instincts tell me, or the fragile foundation upon which the world exists might just fall down like a house of cards. Unless you want to go to Singularities, doctor?"

"…I don't have the capacity for it." He resisted the urge to really, _really _look at Dr. Roman. He knew of Dr. Roman's true nature, but now was not the time to confront him about it. Who knows what sort of ripples that simple act would make throughout this timeline—he was already in deep shit with Lev Lynor's case.

"Then we must rely on Mashu."

"She's a Demi-Servant," Da Vinci said.

"And a human, as well." He hesitated. "Or close to it."

"So you know," Dr. Roman said, a hint of sadness in his eyes. He dismissed the doctor's remorseful look, as his long-buried anger at the injustice done to Mashu was not something to dredge up—nor was anyone here a valid target for his disdain.

"Whatever was done to her here, she is still human. We will need her at every singularity. And she must therefore be the lynchpin around which our efforts must continue from now on. I was the Last Master in my Chaldea, but now I am only a Servant in his image. I will continue to be a Servant moving forward, so Mashu must be readied."

"How would we do that?" Dr. Roman said.

Shirou shrugged. "First, I will train her."

* * *

Chaldea had been intended to be analogous to a heavily-armed research station, and had been built to match that purpose. Much of the architecture was designed to maximize the amount of space needed to house much of the important systems and subsystems required for its purposes. The rest of the space left over were living quarters for personnel and amenities. Guards slept in bunk-beds in cramped rooms, and shared their meals at the cafeteria with the other staff. The engineers and magi, who carried the brunt of the work, were assigned their small rooms, uniformly-sized, and given adequate furnishings to assuage their mental states.

For a magus like him, the granted small space was hardly a detriment, as any able magus could sufficiently change their room/atelier to be more to their liking, so long as they remained within their assigned boundary. In this way, staff members and the intended Masters shared the same types of rooms, with the full knowledge that the more skilled magus would tailor each room to their respective designs and ask for nothing more, like the suite assigned to the Director.

The builders in this world seemed to share the same thoughts. Shirou saw that there were only minor changes here and there in the layout and architecture, further telling proof that this was a whole other world. Like before, most of the rooms were empty as a result of the recent disaster, and its contents had been whisked away to be quarantined.

In his world, he had not minded the setup, but he did recall that over time the empty rooms had been taken over by the many Servants he had summoned. Eventually, there were no more rooms to be handed out, forcing the necessity of Servants sharing a room. Fortunately, this was not as troublesome as it seemed.

While there were Servants with proud personalities and adamant to be given their own personal slice, others were understanding, and deferred to his instructions. Those of the Caster-class then were granted the opportunity to use their Territory Creation to fashion their own personal worlds inside the rooms, turning a once small space into a generous area where all of Chaldea's people could theoretically fit in. There were massive libraries, entire fields of flowers, a boisterous tavern, even a sumptuous mansion filled with extravagant decorations. This was hardly an unusual arrangement, as the space assigned to Da Vinci had long been turned into her personal workshop. These new personalized rooms turned into communal living spaces for much of his Servants, and were sites of many unforgettable events.

Today, the rooms were empty once more, all the chaos and camaraderie existing only in his memories. And yet there was a small comfort in this: with but a thought he could bring it all back—for thirty minutes at a time.

The time limitation was unfortunate, but he could work with it. It would be a good chance to make do on his promise to train Mashu, and a way for the simulator to gather data. His Servants would create an area that would be reminiscent of the battlefields they had fought through in his past, including the environment, topography, geography, ecology, landmarks and ley-lines, and most importantly, the enemies. The simulator would be able to gather all the relevant data, and therefore produce its own copy on the next round of training instead of using up one of Shirou's Servants.

"Are we really going to do this, Senpai?" Mashu said, already in her Demi-Servant form. They stood in the midst of burning buildings, the bright glow of the flames in sharp contrast to the dismal night-time gloom of the sky above. "So this is where you went…" she said, with wide eyes all around.

It was a facsimile of Fuyuki, or near enough for that matter. The Caster maintaining it stood off, hidden from Mashu's sight. The plan was for her to take over as a "final boss" of sorts, if Mashu was able to reach that point. For now, the undead skeletons and ghouls would be her current challenge.

"Yes, a terrible place."

Her demeanor shifted, as she turned to face the enemies. So far they were just standing there like puppets waiting to be moved on their strings, which was precisely what they were. "So all I have to do is fight them, yes Senpai?"

"Yup. First, you'll need to do it solo. Let's see how your combat capabilities fare on a basic level."

"Understood, Master!"

"Er… what."

"I—I mean…" Mashu looked down bashfully. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

Shirou sighed. "I can understand the sentiment, but remember Mashu, I'm not your Master. You can go with Senpai, if you want."

"Understood, senpai."

He wanted Mashu to _really_ understand. This irregular situation left Mashu as the only rayshift-capable human in Chaldea. He would not act as if he was her Master here, as he'd done in his world. As a Servant himself now, they would be comrades, and he felt it important that she ingrain the distinction in her mind right from the start.

"Here I go!" she proclaimed, rushing into the fray. Shirou signaled Caster, who silently ordered her thralls to fight.

Shirou stood back, and observed her work. Caster approached, still invisible. Her form was wreathed in flame, like she was being constantly immolated, though it felt nothing to her.

"She's clumsy," she remarked.

"She's spirited," he rejoined.

"She's unskilled."

"She's untested," Shirou said.

"She's a liability."

"She's all we have," Shirou replied.

He didn't need Caster's constant needling to see Mashu's inexperience, though he didn't fault her that, for obvious reasons. Her movements, while influenced by the Servant inside her, were uncoordinated; her offense hesitant, her defense full of holes.

"You know that _you're _the only thing this wretched world needs, Master," Caster said. "There's no need to go over the drama of Chaldea a second time. I would spare you from doing that to yourself."

"Thank you for your concern, but this must be done. I'm a Servant now. I can't be anyone's Master, least of all this Mashu. But you know that, or you wouldn't have agreed to do this."

"I only agreed…" Caster huffed. "Because I am little else than a projection you created out of your own memory of this version of myself. If I were someone entirely different, even sharing the same Class and the same True Name, you wouldn't have any luck convincing 'me' that this isn't bullshit."

"Thank you for your thoughts. I'm sure Mashu will appreciate it. Isn't that right, Mashu?"

Caster's eyes widened, turning to see Mashu just staring there. He knew she'd been there for a while, so she had definitely overheard the tail-end of the conversation. She had cleared the "course" quickly, which was a point in her favor at least.

Caster's face flushed, then excused herself in a hurry, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence. After a while, she bowed her head and sighed.

"…I lack experience."

"That's true. But try not to take Caster's words to heart. Try and practice more, and even more. A thought to bear in mind is to always assume someone will be attacking you—no matter who it is. So, act with that mindset."

"Yes!"

They continued in this way for a while, until Caster's thirty minutes were up, with Shirou providing critique for her efforts, while Mashu dutifully soaked in all he told her. He could see she was doing her best, though there was not much improvement in her combat. Still, they were able to slowly gather the data that was needed. The next step would be the simulator.

* * *

**_Apocrypha: Kitty (Jeanne d'Arc Alter) _**available below (mature content). In addition, choose the Servants to be dredged into Apocrypha.

**P atreon: Shurpuff**


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few days, Mashu made a little bit of improvement in her training. Power-wise, she was still close to her base-line, but she now had better battle awareness, which was the important thing. She was supposed to beat down enemies to a pulp; rather she needed to protect her possible team-mates from harm, like a living, moving barricade.

After a few battlefields summoned by his Casters, Dr. Roman then reported that the simulator had gathered enough data. The man had been incredulous at the type and strength of the recreations.

"You didn't really fight any of these fellows, right…?" he asked.t

Shirou'd given him a flat look. "We haven't even gotten to the 'hard' parts yet." Dr. Roman grimaced and shook his head.

Thanks to Chaldea's efforts, the simulator had been configured enough so they could use it next, allowing them to recreate certain scenarios for Mashu's training. The aim was to hone her aforementioned battle instincts, which normally would have been accumulated over time as she gained experience in fighting. But with the current situation, it became far more important that she gain as much advantages as she could.

She was still unable to use the Noble Phantasm available to her. She claimed she knew its name, but something was blocking her method of activating it. Shirou supposed that was the consequence of the lack of a Master she could rely on. Even with her current attachment to him and his training sessions, he knew she treated him differently than from if he were her "Master". This block was not something he could easily fix; in fact, he didn't even have a plan for that. With so many unknowns it was better to focus on what they currently had, and use that to the best of their ability.

"Hyaah!"

"Mashu, keep your eyes on the real enemy!"

"Yes, Master!"

The wyvern screeched and thrashed its mighty wings, kicking up a cloud of dust. Its massive jaws nipped and snapped at Mashu, who narrowly avoided it with her nimble footwork.

A small figure darted through the dust. It headed straight for Shirou, punching through the air like a bullet. At the last second, Mashu intercepted it, the enemy's spear embedding into the shield, before she bucked it off with a swing.

"Good job."

The smaller enemy withdrew as the wyvern attacked again, making Mashu move to block it once more. Shirou's gaze went to the figure, who was once more angling a shot for him.

Today's exercise was training Mashu to work on multitasking. At a given situation, she had to ensure Shirou's safety, while doing her best to fend off two separate enemies, each trying their best to get at Shirou, while not necessarily being allied to each other. There was the wyvern, helpfully provided by the simulator, and then there was "shishou", the legendary Scathach, now clad in the futuristic cybernetic suit stolen from an old singularity. Her spear glowed neon-like as she aimed her thrusts at him, though not without her full force—if she were any more serious, she would have already reached Shirou. But she took her time, allowing Mashu to keep up.

Scathach along with many other mentor-like Servants had been godsends for Shirou, along with his powerful, imaginative Casters. They had the expertise to advise him on training regimens and concepts that would help him train up Mashu as best he can. Scathach, who had trained the majestic Cu Chulainn, was one of these.

He was grateful for the fact that he could call upon a large host of her, enough to create his own little squadron of shishous. He had already called upon most of them to help teach Mashu. This Scathach was the latest—a Scathach equipped to hunt in the cybernetic world. Still, even without that specialty, she was still a fearsome Lancer.

(The only problem currently, with summoning this many Scathachs—along with the dozens of Servants he'd summoned besides—was the fact that nearly all of them "drained" him one after another by demanding sex as payment. Not that he minded the sex part, but it was still kind of hard to do quickies for thirty minutes with a different Servant every time, each session adding up to a whole night.)

Shirou crossed his arms, then cried out, "Cut! Doctor!"

At his cue, Doctor Roman, who was keyed remotely into the simulator from outside, paused the ongoing battle. The wyvern froze, suspended in time while Shirou approached Mashu.

"Mashu, we're going to try the survival run again, using the same time limit and limitations. Are you ready?"

She nodded grimly. Shirou glanced at Lancer, who readied her lance in response. Mashu would need to defend him from attack within a set duration of time. The stipulation this time would be that Shirou would pretend to be some VIP, who could not dodge or run as a Servant could. (Ironically this description best fit Shirou as a Master, who often found his combat magus skills outmatched by threats in the Singularity) At this stage, the time needed to complete would be very low.

"Will Lancer be participating?" Mashu asked.

Shirou thought about it, then shook his head. "Nah, she'll just be observing you this time." The odds were very against Mashu's success in this. She could survive, true, but her ward wouldn't.

"Please allow her to join!" Mashu said, surprised.

"Mashu, that's…"

"Even if it's a low level…" she continued, insistent. "I want to continue practice multitasking."

He looked to Lancer, who nodded almost imperceptibly. He knew shishou would be modulating her own ability without his prompting, handicapping herself down to Mashu's current level. While Shirou admired her earnest desire to train, there were limits that needed to be overcome first.

"Very well. Good luck, Mashu," Shirou said.

"Yes!" she cried, turning towards her enemies. The wyvern was lifted from the simulator pause, roaring and frothing at the mouth. At the same time, Lancer sped forward, spear poised to strike.

"Senpai, go!" she urged. Shirou took this as his cue to start running, albeit at the slow pace of a normal human. Behind him, he could sense the thunderous clash of the wyvern's large maws and Mashu's shield. He felt a rush of wind, and felt Lancer's charge stopped just in time.

_Five seconds._

The earth surged beneath him as he continued to jog along, praying in his heart for Mashu to succeed. The wyvern shrieked, as it continued to be frustrated by Mashu's agile counter-attacks. The real problem here was Lancer, who was herself a smaller, agile force. Even with the wyvern in the way, she could simply dodge the larger enemy's attacks and wait for just the right moment when Mashu was distracted to strike decisively.

"Haah!" Mashu cried, deflecting another attack. Shirou continued counting down in his head.

_Twenty-seven… twenty-eight…_

From the corner of his eye, he could spot shishou ascending to the heavens like a rocket, making a beautiful arc in the air, before allowing gravity to guide her down with the force of a meteor. Her spear was glowing.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. She was activating one of her Noble Phantasms. Lancer wasn't fucking around. He could warn Mashu, but letting her handle it was better. He was supposed to be just the hapless VIP, running for his life.

The impact came, and with it a shockwave struck him flat on the back. Shirou allowed his legs to stumble, before he fell to the ground. He felt the sharp sense of certain doom, as from an incoming attack. Then there was a clash of steel, another roar, then silence.

_Thirty._

The exercise was over. Shirou was about to stand when he felt steel brush against his back. After a beat, the feeling was gone, and Shirou stood to see Mashu's disappointed look. Behind her, the wyvern was frozen yet again, mere inches from her head. Then he saw shishou standing there, expression still hidden. But he still knew what had happened.

Mashu had failed, somehow. In the last second of the exercise, Scathach had managed to break through her defenses, and would have killed him.

"Sorry… senpai."

Shirou sighed. "That's alright. Don't be discouraged, Mashu. That you lasted so long is admirable in itself. See, Lancer agrees." At his prompting, Scathach nodded.

"'m sorry…" she continued mumbling. Her shoulders sagged, her bangs hiding her crestfallen expression.

Shirou raised his head. "Doctor, let's call it for now. Come on, Mashu, let's get you cooled down. Then we can try again, if you'd like."

After a long moment of hesitation, she looked up. There was a fierce look on her face. "I won't fail next time, Senpai."

"That's the spirit," he said, smiling. "It's just a mere bump in the road. And like I said, twenty-nine seconds is already pretty impressive." He knew these were just empty words of encouragement, clichés uttered many times before. But he knew, he genuinely believed, she could do it. In his mind, Mashu was capable of anything. She just needed a little more time, to grow. To ascend.

He glanced at Scathach, who was already walking off into the distance. She waved, and then disappeared. As expected of shishou, she could dismiss herself from service even before the thirty minutes were up. Still, her intent was clear: it was Shirou's responsibility to watch over Mashu, and he didn't—or shouldn't—rely on Lancer for this.

* * *

After he dropped of Mashu in her room, Shirou went to another empty room. In there, one of his Casters was already waiting, ready to shape something for him.

"Realistically," she said, as soon as the door closed behind him. "There's nothing you can do to train yourself."

"I know that," Shirou said.

"The laws governing a Servant's saint graph are ingrained. If you are weak, or strong, there's nothing much you can do to improve it—aside from calling upon the assistance from others. Or, most importantly—"

"From a Master," Shirou finished. But he didn't have a Master. He could only rely on this frail body, as well as the Servants he could summon.

In this form, he had lost much of what defined Emiya Shirou. His combat abilities, his magecraft, all honed from an early age of working as a rogue mage, had been stripped away. He knew he should possess them, but, like a phantom limb, it only existed in his mind as a memory.

His Reality Marble, which should have been a core part of his identity as a human, was absent. No matter how much he molded his mana, it would never come out, as if he had forgotten how to walk. Then again, he thought wryly, he knew he wasn't the measure of someone who would qualify to be a hero enshrined in the Throne. He was just some nobody who managed to keep things together as he and Chaldea worked to undo Goetia's machinations. He didn't do it out of obligation to his fellow man, nor from some ideal of heroism. He was just in it to survive, him and everyone else in Chaldea.

His physical abilities as a Servant were improved, but only by a few marks. For a while he'd had his Servants test his reflexes, which ended just as he predicted. Higher class Servants or those with certain tricky Noble Phantasms would be able to kill him effectively, no matter how hard he tried. Anyone else would need a good chase before catching him, but they'd get him in the end. He hadn't tried on _all _the Servants he could summon, but as someone who knew his everyone's abilities well enough, such a thing was apparent.

Even as a Servant he was only barely as able as his Master self. And he didn't even have Unlimited Blade Works to help him tip the scales anymore.

Before he realized it, a cup was pushed into his hand. Then, Caster started to pour him a drink from a bottle she produced from somewhere.

"… What are you doing?" he asked.

"You looked like you needed a drink, Master," she said.

"I don't know how it'll help. I won't get drunk," he said. At least, he was relatively sure. There were some Noble Phantasms who could _make _one drunk, but that was generally a potent magical effect, and not authentic inebriation. But he did take a sip of the burning liquid. It was thick and earthy, mixed with something like honey.

"Ah, and if we're having a drink, why not have a meal to go with it?" came a voice behind him. Shirou nearly dropped his cup.

"What the heck? I didn't call for you, Nobu."

Oda Nobunaga, in the form of the local onsen worker, had appeared, bearing a tray of food. It smelled deliciously fragrant, though he felt no pang of hunger. She grinned and placed her hands on her hips.

"What're you talking about? Any good meal deserves a nice drink to go with it, and if you're drinking, may as well get it with a drink."

He stared at her. "That's not what I meant. I was asking why, or rather, _how _you're out here, when I didn't call for you."

She puffed out her chest. "Who do you think you're talking to? Nothing's impossible for the great Fool of Owari—not that I didn't cheat and beat everyone else out here, no," she added in a low mutter.

"What?"

She cleared her throat. "As the modern saying goes: All is fair in love and war, oh great honorable Master!"

"What she said, Master," Caster said from the side, her expression sour, "Is that she _willed _herself here, using your body as a sort of summoning circle."

"Is my body a summoning circle?" Shirou asked, uneasy at the thought.

"Well, no, not exactly," Caster replied, furrowing her brows.

"Why drown yourself in thought, egghead?" Nobunaga said. "Just attribute it to Master's generosity, and our own tremendous skill that I managed this feat! Nothing is impossible for one such as I! Fuhahaha!"

"No, really, I'm curious. How did you manage this?" Shirou asked, a little more seriously now. If his Servants could just summon themselves without him, then that made things a lot more complicated. The basic rule of his new Noble Phantasm was thus: they only lasted for thirty minutes, he could only summon up to six of them, and that they could not willingly remove themselves if needed. Shirou therefore had begun planning around those restrictions.

Now he discovered that they could just summon themselves without prompting. Who else aside from Nobunaga was capable of that? How could he convince those who could that this was a bad idea? Some of his Servants were notoriously self-centered, and barely listened to his advice on combat. It was fitting for their class sometimes (as Berserkers) or it was their own nature that gave them a wild, frivolous spirit (like Atalante), and it was overall a pain to manage.

Nobunaga didn't seem to be forthcoming. It was either that, or she honestly didn't know how. And judging by the cramped look on her face, the latter option was quite likely.

"S-s-such matters of the mind are but frivolous pursuits, Master. Surely you can woolgather some other time..?" she said.

"_Munch, munch, munch_. You could tell the truth, you know. That you don't know," came another, newer voice, belonging to the Servant that was now gobbling up Nobunaga's roasted meat. Then she got to chugging down Caster's drink.

"What the—Artoria?"

Artoria Saber, the first Artoria who heeded his summons, had now somehow appeared. The blonde King of Knights helped herself to the meat with much gusto.

"Mmm… Now that's really delicious. Should you not be digging in as well, Master?" she asked.

"No…" Shirou sighed, exasperation coming to him. "Where the heck did you come from? I didn't call for you either, Saber."

"What do you mean? Your heart called to me, Master, and I answered. Just in time for meals, I gather."

"What the hell are you doing, dumb foreigner?" Nobunaga now said, grabbing the tray. It seemed she, too, had been paralyzed by shock. "That's for Master! And me!"

"I do not recall your saying such an assertion when you appeared," Saber returned coolly, still eviscerating the steamy meat with her greasy fingers.

"Guh… Hands off the meat you glutton!"

"Could everyone please stop eating for a second and answer me?" Shirou said. But both Saber and Nobunaga had descended into a full-blown argument, completely ignoring him. He felt rather like a failure of a Master; unable to properly control his Servants.

"Perhaps I shall have an answer for you later, Master," Caster said, taking away her bottles before either of the brawling pair took it for a weapon. It was somewhat of a needless action, as those bottles would disappear along with her. But Caster gathered them to herself just so, and after a quick peck on his cheek, she disappeared.

"Heh? Where'd all the booze go?" Nobunaga said.

Shirou sighed. He stood, and gestured to his Servants. "Since you're here, you may as well help me train up at the simulator. Come along."

Nobunaga of the onsen mumbled under sullenly under her breath, shooting her opponent a dirty look. Saber dutifully stood up after him, ignoring her enemy, while also taking one last strip of meat. She clapped her hands together, once.

"Thanks for the meal."

Shirou sighed again.

* * *

Overseeing a battle with his life on the line was a feeling he was more than familiar with. Shirou stood behind Rider, with the both of them positioned on a relatively safe portion of the battlefield. He watched his two main Servants charge into the fray.

"Are you really sure about this?" Dr. Roman had asked, when Shirou had told him of the settings he wanted to input. The doctor was surprised, fittingly because the settings were at a level quite higher than normal. The simulator would create a monster with frightening power.

"It's fine," Shirou had replied. Though they were high, the simulator still couldn't quite grasp the enormous strength that the enemies in his life had possessed. The simulator was "capped" at a level that would not also destroy the very thing that powered it. But it would do, for now. He had to flex his muscles, and hone skills that might have rusted through the passage of time.

"Are you sure about this, Master?" Rider whispered. Her long, distinct hair reached down to her legs. Taut black leather wrapped around her slender body, allowing her unrestricted movement without compromising her combat effectiveness. An eyemask covered half her face, shielding the world from her infamous gaze.

"Yes, why?" Shirou responded.

"I'm usually not the one who gets chosen for escort labor," she said.

"Nonsense, you'll do fine."

"If you say so, Master," she replied in a no-nonsense tone, though she still sounded skeptical. It was understandable. In terms of relative strengths, this Rider was average at best, and logically speaking occupied certain niche situations. She wouldn't be the first, nor the second, nor the third choice when it came time for maximum firepower, or for widespread team support, or even for assassination.

But in the current fabricated situation she was more than adequate. Though he wouldn't mention to her how she was just one of the "handicaps" he'd put on himself.

The opposing monster that the simulator had birthed was a fearsome, insect-like gargantuan, looking like a giant scorpion with menacing pincers and too many stingers to count, each flailing about like so many venomous whips. If the wyvern testing Mashu from before was a difficulty 5, then this one was a 30, showcasing the relative difference in scale.

His battle plan had been thus: Saber and Lancer, each high-quality Servants, would serve to engage the monster. Caster and Berserker would stay to the side, and the former was commanded to do nothing else than empower the latter with her spells. Then there was Shirou and Rider off to the side, with him overseeing everything.

The monster was commanded to hunt him and him alone. That was the first challenge—he was the loss condition. Second, Saber and Lancer were forbidden from unleashing their Noble Phantasms. Normally he would not issue such a command: when applicable he would always require use of a Noble Phantasm if it could advance an objective. But there were times when they needed to hold back, when energy needed to be reserved, or whatever else reason. And sometimes using a Noble Phantasm _was _a loss condition unto itself.

The third handicap was for Berserker: no matter, what she would not attack the enemy, and would only act to unleash her Noble Phantasm on the enemy when the time was right. She would be required to rein in her instincts to obey Shirou's commands until he wished it. This was an equal test of Master and Servant: he would place his trust that she would obey a command; and she would have to choose between loyalty to her Master or to her instincts.

In the meantime, she would act to defend against the small fry summoned by the simulator to attack Caster's position.

Lastly, it fell to Rider to keep watch on the situation, and act accordingly. She had the necessary agility and strength to bring the both of them out of dangerous situations. But it would still be somewhat of a burden on her: he wouldn't tell her, but she was herself a handicap. That was cold, harsh truth, not that it needed to be said.

It did not take long for things to begin. Not five seconds from when combat began, Shirou saw Lancer's form drive over their heads, knocked back from a tremendous blow.

"That idiot!" Saber was shouting. "And I told her to engage together!"

"Master!" Rider said, already seeing what Shirou also saw. The monster had exploited the opening, and was now barreling towards them at high speed. He took Rider's hand and felt himself fly high, then descend once more, putting considerable distance between them and the monster.

But the monster was made to cover large distances so this didn't seem like that much of an escape. The arena was also deliberately made small—as per the simulator's inherent limitations, as well as another handicap. It fell to all of the Servants here, working as a team, to overcome the challenge.

"Hyaaargh!" Despite being the first to screw up, Lancer stood and charged right back into the fray.

"She's been hurt," Shirou muttered to himself. But something was strange—he could tell her body had been hurt, like an instinctive thought, like knowing the identity of an object just by simply feeling it.

He could not do that as a Master. Back then he would use a magecraft technique on his eyes to analyze the structural integrity of his Servants' corporeal forms, thereby clueing him on their present conditions. But now, even that simple technique was lost to him.

In exchange, he had this "feeling", as if Lancer were his own hand that had gotten bruised somewhere. He knew that she was hurt, but still capable, eager even. But he could not know exactly what, if anything had been damaged. He had replaced precision with instinct—and he wasn't sure if it was a good thing.

"Master," Rider now said. "I could support their defense. My—"

"No, Rider. We need to simulate as if your mana reserves were depleted."

"My mana reserves can never be depleted, Master. Not in this form," Rider replied.

"What do you mean?"

She cocked her head, turning her blindfolded gaze at him. "Did you not realize, Master? Our mana output is directly linked to yours. And yours seem as an infinite pool that is impossible to deplete."

Rider's description disturbed him. His other Servants thus far had not described such a thing; but perhaps they'd assumed that he knew. He had at first assumed that he was summoning them wholesale, with their own reserve of mana like a device with a battery pre-installed. But now Rider told him they were inexplicably linked to him still by that invisible, untouchable wire that allowed him to feed them with his power. That… changed certain things.

He shook his head. He would ruminate later, perhaps with those who might seem knowledgeable about it, like some of his Casters. He therefore told Rider, "Well, still for this exercise we need to act as if your usage of the Noble Phantasm must be minimized. Whether through necessity, or if some enemy disabled it or made it impossible to use—let's just go with that."

"I understand," Rider said. "A handicap, then."

"Precisely."

"Now I see why you summoned _them _together," Rider said, her voice oozing amusement. She indicated Saber and Lancer, who spent half the time feuding with each other as with the monster.

The two shared a sort of rivalry with each other, for whatever reason. Ordinarily it was something to be addressed off the battlefield. Servants were like people that way, loving and hating in equal measure.

He wasn't expecting a miracle to happen in this simulation. But the challenge was for them to work together just enough to get through it, answering the same question that was posed for every other Servant present: did they trust and obey their Master enough to make the difference?

Shirou winced, feeling the blow the insect giant made when an ill-timed assault allowed it the opportunity to swat Saber aside, nearly knocking her straight into Caster's position. It was like he'd been punched in the gut, which was perhaps an interesting aspect to this whole Servant business. If that blow felt bad then what would termination feel like?

In the meantime, Berserker over there was snarling, annoyed at Saber for interrupting her evisceration of the small fry swarming their position. Saber mouthed off something he couldn't hear; as Rider had immediately evacuated their position once the enemy was now free to ignore Lancer in favor of hunting him.

"Don't underestimate me you stupid—" Lancer said, hurling herself to land right on top of the insect. She loped over its thick, serrate carapace, and reached one of its eyes. She lost no time stabbing downward, causing the monster to screech loud in an eardrum-shattering pitch.

The insect flailed around, trying to throw off Lancer. As its claws attempted to swipe her, a small shape darted in front. In a flash of steel, Saber's blade neatly slashed through the claws, enraging the giant even further.

"_Master, it is ready,_" Caster announced in his head.

"Do it," he responded, watching the creature flail about.

Off in the distance, the magical glow surrounding Caster and Berserker's location surged, peaking into a supernova flash that briefly illuminated the area. Then came the roar of something like a tiger, or a lion, or some other predatory creature. Suffused with Caster's potent energies, Berserker jetted forward and up like a bullet, and at the apex hovered just above the insect.

**"Nyahuhuhu! Thanks for filling me up, woof! Time for the finishing touch, woof!"**

Berserker's form was now suffused with a strange energy, vaguely taking the form of a beast with many tails. She uttered a terrifying, echoing howl. Twin limbs extended outward, ending in large, monstrous claws. Saber and Lancer darted away from the monster as Berserker's Noble Phantasm hit home, the claws slashing through tough carapace with the same ease of a cat crushing a roach beneath its paws. Squealing helplessly, the insect could do nothing as Berserker swung those monstrous limbs, slashing over and over again, reducing the giant to smaller and smaller chunks.

The energy faded after a while, with Berserker falling back to the ground. Lancer jumped up to catch her, before she went over to his position, along with Saber and Caster.

"Target eliminated, Master," Saber reported.

Shirou looked at Berserker, who was sleeping off the debilitating effect of her Noble Phantasm. In fact, he _knew _in his bones that she could no longer act, as if she were like his limb suffering a cramp. But aside from that, the exercise was a relative success. It seemed that his Servants had retained their strengths prior to his Summoning. There were a lot more questions to answer, but for now he was confident in their combat ability.

He nodded grimly. "Good work, everyone."

* * *

**_Apocrypha: The Faculty (Scathach) _**available below (mature content). In addition, be able to choose the Servants to be dredged into Apocrypha.

**P atreon: Shurpuff**


	4. Chapter 4

The alarms blared throughout Chaldea.

Dr. Roman, along with the other remaining technicians, fought to translate everything their scientific apparatus was giving them. The former had a strained look on his face as he parsed the data that flowed into the screens.

"It's just as he predicted…" he muttered. "But there's something different about it somehow?"

"Antimatter foci is leaking important memory, sir!" said one of the technicians. "CHALDEAS can't seem to get a definite lock!"

"SHEBA is also reporting anomalies, doctor!" said another technician, her hands flying all over the controls. "At this rate, we'll lose the transmission entirely!"

"Hold on, I'll try to offset it!" Roman said, as he frantically set about the grim, arduous task of managing Chaldea's systems. "The singularity's outer constraints keep on shifting. Kuh… It's like we're being actively blocked or something…"

As he worked, his thoughts went back to the terrible news that had been brought back by the mysterious new Servant, who named himself "Emiya Shirou". He was a man of many fascinating qualities, yet in some ways he was also shallow and direct, like a bullet.

"Doctor! You've done it! The singularity is once more in clear view. Reporting 79 percent transmission quality!" a technician reported.

"Seventy-nine, huh… That's right below the adequate setting required, and sends the Rayshift probabilities into the frightening error-filled indices…" He thought about it. This meant that Rayshifting had gone from "coasting over an active volcano on a rope bridge" to "walking a tightrope over an active volcano". He shook his head, to dismiss that errant thought.

"Then again, it's not like we're completely helpless." He pressed a button on his console. "Emiya Shirou, please report to briefing room two. Repeat: Emiya Shirou, please report to briefing room two."

()()()

Shirou had already given them enough information of what had been—and hopefully what should be—his very first singularity. He and Mashu (and Saber Artoria, his only Servant at the time) had been sent to the Hundred Years' War, around the time of Jeanne d'Arc. There, they had worked to undo the ravages that Goetia's meddling had wrought upon history, including the summoning of the Dragon Witch, Jeanne d'Arc Alter.

Looking back, it had been an almost titanic struggle from the onset, as they had subsequently faced several strong Servants, including that Berserker who had seemed to have a grudge against his Saber. But through Mashu's stubborn efforts and his own desperate tactics, they had secured the aid of several Stray Servants and brought the fight to the Dragon Witch. He had also then been able to summon several new Servants too, including one of his most powerful—the first Hero, Gilgamesh, resplendent in all her might and glory.

In recounting the tale to Dr. Roman and Da Vinci, he cautioned that there were several factors that now ensured things would be far different this time around. This was, of course, assuming that the Singularity's identity would still be at France. First, their Chaldea support crew had been far more robust, including the aid of none other than the Director, Olgamarie. She had granted him several of her Mystic Codes, which had become useful within the Singularity itself. She had also ably supervised the transportation of several "support packages" sent into the Singularity after them, bringing in much needed food and other supplies. The former he had used to leverage the aid of a human army, who had then bought them much needed time during the assault on Jeanne Alter's castle.

The second, arguably more important factor, was the fact that Goetia would be much aware of them now. In his version the Demon Pillars had not even intervened at this stage, although their triumph had drawn Goetia's eye. Now it was impossible to predict what the Demon Pillars would do with the knowledge of his existence.

When he arrived at the meeting room after being summoned, Roman confirmed that the Singularity was exactly as he'd described.

"I guess that settles it," he said. "You were telling the truth; or at least, it seems inevitable that this time period would be the one chosen by Goetia."

"But judging from the sirens," Shirou said, glancing at Mashu, who sat there with Fou. "It seems that there's something strange this time. We never had this emergency."

"That confirms it yet again," Dr. Roman said, sighing. "That this is an unusual situation, again confirming your story. I won't go into the technical details, but there's a huge problem with the Singularity now." He paused, as if to collect his thoughts. "First let us imagine the Singularity having some sort of shell, or barrier around it. The barrier constantly shifts and changes its state, and together with its other innate properties renders it inaccessible to conventional means of travel, as well as through means of magic and such."

"Which necessitates Chaldea."

Dr. Roman nodded. "Yes. The systems in Chaldea are designed with such a thing in mind. Ordinarily, we would be able to 'pierce' this barrier and fix it in place for a short burst of time, allowing us to Rayshift inside. Sort of like, building a stable bridge, then sending someone over that bridge in less than a micro-second. The calculations needed to perform this maneuver, as well as the energy expenditure needed, is impossible for the average human to comprehend, which is why Chaldea's systems are much required.

"The problem now is that somehow, we cannot pierce through this barrier, or at least, we cannot even find some sort of foothold where we can grasp its outer layer for observation. It is like looking directly at the sun in the sky, which renders us blind as we look straight at it, but we do know it is there—and roughly where it is. And with this blindness in effect, Rayshifting is made almost impossible."

"'Almost' impossible?" Shirou repeated.

"Yes, despite our setbacks, Chaldea is still equipped to overcome such a thing—within certain parameters. It's just that the inherent problem within the Singularity still remains, and thus makes Rayshifting a daunting thing to consider." Here, Dr. Roman glanced at Mashu.

Shirou understood what he was getting at. "It would be fatal for Mashu?" She started upon being mentioned.

"A number of things could happen to her, all of them incalculably nasty." Dr. Roman sighed. "I tell you this, to inquire if it would be possible for Mashu not to join in the Rayshift?"

"Doctor!" Mashu said, already trying to build up her protest.

"Mashu, please understand, this isn't something I can control! It's quite dangerous."

"I can do it," Mashu said. "I have to do it."

Dr. Roman looked at her with pained eyes. "Shirou, do you still insist that Mashu be there? Can the Singularity not be solved through your own talents and skills?"

"A flattering thing to say, Doctor, if I were more confident in my own capabilities," Shirou said. "But let's not forget that I am a Servant now. Despite everything, I still belong to this sort of existence. I feel that there are consequences if no actual human is present to witness the end of these Singularities."

"That doesn't sound logical. What exactly is there to fear?" asked Dr. Roman.

"This _is _a fight to restore the _Human _Order, doctor. And I am now far from human." Shirou closed his eyes. "Just call it veteran's intuition. There is little to risk if I am wrong; there is everything to lose if I'm right. So tell me doctor: are the odds of taking Mashu there really impossible?"

"I'm willing to risk it, Dr. Roman," Mashu said, contributing her own voice.

"Mashu…" Romani's glance moved to her. He scratched his head and sighed. "Have all these days of training taught you to believe in him more than us? As your ward, it makes me a bit sad."

"No, it is nothing like that," Mashu said promptly. She bit her lip, glancing at him. "It is true that he has taught me many things, but I have observed much from spending my time with him. And I know that if there is something he could accomplish all by himself he would do it without hesitation."

"Hmph. It still doesn't make me happy, though," Dr. Roman said. He leaned back against the chair, his brows furrowed in thought. "We could tweak some settings on our end, make sure to give Mashu a safer berth, so to speak. Again, I project that it still falls within the dangerous margins of error. This might be an all-nighter for me and the crew."

"Please do, doctor," Shirou said. "And soon, if possible."

"Those sound like the words of a slave-driver, Shirou," Romani said, with brow raised. "I kid, I kid. I will certainly do my best to keep things snappy. Wouldn't want our enemies to build up the upper hand."

He left, leaving him and Mashu alone in the room. Shirou turned to her and said, "Despite what I told him, I still would respect your personal decision, Mashu. Are you quite certain you wish to follow me to the Singularity?"

"Yes, Senpai," she replied, without missing a beat. "I already told the doctor that I would be, why would you need to ask again?"

"I just wanted to reaffirm it," Shirou said. His tone turned serious. "I will not lie, traveling to a Singularity is hard, and I'm not just talking about the means that Dr. Romani and the rest are arranging for you. It will be countless, never-ending battle from here on, without rest. Saying it is one thing: but to live through it is another matter entirely."

She did not say anything, and just continued to look at him.

He grunted. "Then, get yourself ready."

()()()

His next destination was a tricky one. It was important that he do this, but he felt unsure if he would get what he wanted.

The Servant Leonardo Da Vinci was notoriously mercurial, even in his own world. He could never predict her moods and whims, especially when it involved things that would greatly benefit Chaldea or his mission. The things she supplied would go mysteriously "out of stock", defying all logic; and in the next day they'd be so oversupplied she was practically giving them away—to his Servants. And she charged an exorbitant amount for her services, which he could rightly consider it criminal if not for the Director's tacit recognition of her role as part of Chaldea.

And in this world Shirou had already made a bad impression. That would make things a whole lot more difficult.

He entered her workshop, and was instantly surprised by the blaring noise of rock metal from within. He stood there, puzzled by the noise, for he was expecting a more classical ambience, in light of his memories. He looked around the cluttered workshop, and quickly spotted Da Vinci who stood there with her back turned.

"Um…"

"Surprised?" she said, shouting over the din. "I detect a hint of uncertainty in your tone. It is more than likely due to the fact that the music I'm playing is of a sort different from what you're used to, no?" The Mona Lisa smiled at him from over her shoulder, a devious twist playing on the enigmatic expression. "Am I wrong?"

He sighed. "No, but then, what is the point?"

"Tsk. Tsk. Imbecile! You would not understand the perspective of those who have glimpsed God's supreme genius. 'Tis hard enough to discover that one's own self can be sublimated into these fleshly, heretical forms; even more to find that one can be easily cloned, like automata, among the various shards of reality! But even then, I can accept that the beauty of Creation allows for the existence of such unhallowed purgatory. Yet I must now contend with the fact that we are indeed automata, programmed to exhibit the same features, personalities, thinking, and so on! I cannot allow that. So now, I am different. If the Da Vinci you knew was that way, then I must find a different path. And it all starts with a slight alteration to my listening music, for which I am gratified to you for confirming my idle hypothesis."

"I don't really get it," Shirou said. "You mean to say this is all just a whim of yours, to make yourself unique?"

"This is my prerogative as the Universal Genius!" Da Vinci proclaimed. "In any case, I tire of speaking with the likes of you. State your business here, and begone!"

"I'm here for your wares, if you have them," Shirou said.

She sniffed. "Oh really. And I suppose you possess the payment for it?"

"I do." He stuffed his hand in his pocket. "It's a mana sphere right?"

Back when he'd just been a simple Master, getting enough of these was a secondary job unto itself. The mana spheres were materials obtained from condensing spiritron particles into a tangible object. It had unknown, unusable potential, and Olgamarie had described it as a "nonsense thing". Apparently, Da Vinci was able to use such objects for her own purposes, which was why it had become a sort of currency to use in obtaining the Servant's many wares—though he'd complained many times on why they even needed to do that when the world was in jeopardy.

He held out a couple of the objects in his hand. He'd had his Casters create these just in case from their own essences—but ideally he would harvest these inside Singularities. Like a carrion bird he'd harvest the remains of fallen enemies to funnel into these spheres, all to please the capricious genius Servant.

"Mana _spheres_…?" She turned around and walked briskly to the counter. She reached out to pluck one of them from his hand and examined it as it lay on her palm. "I see…"

"Well?"

"… This has given me even more reason to voice my displeasure," she said, with a bitter tone. "To think that a counterpart of mine would settle for anything other than a specific shape for a specific purpose—but of course from a certain point of view spheres are a decent enough alternative for use… Heavens know I'd been toying with the prospect…" As Da Vinci muttered to herself, many strange mechanical appendages appeared from her back, all converging on the sphere—prodding, clamping, poking at it from all angles. A mask went over the inventor's face, equipped with a scope that zoomed forward like a telescope, its lens intent on the sphere.

Then she made a clucking noise with her tongue. "I'm afraid this won't do, Emiya Shirou. In here, in this world, we only accept mana _prisms_ as currency." She pointed to one of the shelves behind her, upon which sat a small, green cube-like object. Apart from the shape, it was the same size and color as the sphere.

"Would that not work? I assume it's made from the same substances, formed through the same processes. The only difference is in shape—is it really unacceptable?"

"Of COURSE it is," Da Vinci practically yelled. "Ever heard that saying about round pegs and square holes? It fits—it actually fits in this instance."

"I've been meaning to ask, what exactly _do _you use these things for?" he said, a little impatiently.

A sly look came to her. "Oh? My counterpart never did tell you? Then I won't either. It's not for a dunce to understand."

Shirou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So if that doesn't work, then I assume this rare sphere is also a no-go?" When he said that, he produced another sphere, this time glowing a pristine gold sheen, from his pockets. This one had been created from the lifeblood of his Casters—a sacrifice they freely made as their forms could be easily reconstituted from himself. Still, he would prefer hunting enemy Servants or enemies with equivalent strengths to gain these. It felt more honest somehow.

"A rare prism in the shape of a sphere too? My my, what is the world coming to." She grabbed the prism and began examining it as well. After a moment she said, "As I'd already mentioned, this is not something that can ever be negotiated. Spheres are quite distinct from prisms, and I have no use for these things—except maybe to use them in some necklace. But, perhaps…" She shook her head. "Never mind."

She looked at him. "Since you brought these then you must know of the reliable way of creating these?"

"I have my ways," Shirou said.

"In that case, it'll be simple for you to provide me with the proper shapes. Remember them!" She pointed again towards the shelf. "But since it is technically your first time, Servant Master, then I shan't say no to indulging you in a bit of a first-time bonus."

"You will?"

"Just this once," she said, putting up an index finger. "And only for mana prisms. The rare prisms are for objects that are incredibly complex and intricate. Masterwork pieces I would not trade for anything less… I'm sure you understand, yes?"

He grimaced. It was less than what he'd wanted, but at least it was something.

"Fine. Do you happen to have these available?" he said, handing her a piece of paper.

She scanned the contents of the paper quickly. "Oh ho?" She raised a brow at him. "Bringing out the big guns?"

"_They'll _be bringing out the big guns, too."

She removed her scoped mask. "I'll see what I can do."

()()()

In the end, Dr. Roman and the rest of the Chaldea staff were able to wrangle out a means for Mashu to rayshift. It involved certain processes that they didn't explain to him, though he felt he was better off not knowing, as it would probably just confuse him.

"For that matter, how will you be able to reach the Singularity, senpai?" Mashu had asked.

Even he didn't know the exact details. But he had the distinct feeling he would arrive at wherever he was needed to be, precisely when he was needed.

But there was no guarantee he would appear right beside Mashu. And since he had no idea if Dr. Romani or the staff could instantly zero in on his magic signature to establish a communication, it was imperative that he reunite with Mashu as soon as possible.

So he took her aside for a few minutes to give her a few pointers about what to do the minute she got her bearings inside the Singularity.

"… I've also placed a tracking system on you," he said. "My Servant will be able to find your unique signature then—assuming you still have it on you." The Code had been one of those he'd bought from Da Vinci, something which he had used extensively as a Master to keep track of his Mashu. He guessed he might be able to use it himself and find her, considering he was already a Servant, so that would be a good test.

Once Mashu was sealed inside the coffin, Shirou left the rest of the procedure to Chaldea and went back to his room. All the other things he had bought from Da Vinci were in Mashu's pack, to ensure it would actually be there. Inside his room, he went to a corner and sat in lotus position. He closed his eyes in an attempt to meditate; this was one of his techniques as a mercenary to achieve a sort of pre-battle adrenaline. He wouldn't assume that the France he'd be going to would go exactly as it had been in his world, so it was very likely he'd need to go in guns blazing with all his strongest Servants from the start.

"Rayshift complete!" Dr. Romani announced over the intercom, for his benefit. Shirou's internal heartbeat surged. This was it. Time to see if he would indeed follow, or if he'd just sent Mashu to her death.

"Come then," he said in his mind, addressing whatever force had been behind his materialization here. It was virtually impossible to send him via Rayshift anywhere. None of his Servants could do what Chaldea did. This needed to work. "If you require my skills, then deploy me now," he said aloud. A few tense moments passed.

"That's more like it," he said with a grin, as he felt a rushing light come over him, and he felt himself being swept away into the whims of fate.

()()()

Mashu looked around her, surveying the field. She was at the edge of a forested area, looking out atop a small cliff over a series of grassy hills. Everything was quiet, and peaceful, with no indication that this was a dangerous Singularity. For a few moments, she could only stare with wonder at everything. Having lived her entire life inside Chaldea, just being in a place like this stirred something in her chest she couldn't explain.

"Beautiful…"

She had just about given the all-clear signal to Dr. Roman, confirming her safe arrival at the Singularity. The only thing that remained now was to lie low and wait for contact from Shirou-senpai.

Mashu went back inside the forest. She guessed it would be a good idea to make a temporary camp somewhere in its depths. She slung the large bag of supplies effortlessly over her shoulder as she walked. The bag, which she could never carry at all as a human, was now as light as a feather in her Demi-Servant form.

A few minutes later, she paused, her keener instincts clueing her to a subtle noise at the periphery. She laid down the bag and took out her shield, watching her surroundings intently as Senpai had taught her.

A bush shivered a few feet away. Mashu didn't allow herself to get distracted, and simply waited, conserving her energy for the next moment. Her heart thudded loud in her ears.

Then she whirled, feeling a presence behind her. There stood a Servant in something like camo attire, covered by a hooded cloak of faded green. Her face was shrouded under her hood.

"Good job," said the unknown Servant.

Mashu stared at the Servant uneasily. "Ishtar's panties," she announced.

"Nonexistent," came the reply.

"Kama's love."

"Questionable."

"Artoria's weight."

"Which Artoria?"

She sighed, relaxing as the full set of code phrases were completed. That meant she could trust this Servant, according to Senpai, and that she was assured of an ally—however temporary.

"We should hurry," the Servant said. "I've only got ten more minutes."

"Where is Senpai?" she asked.

"Not too far from here," replied the Servant. "He'll be pleased to know that Da Vinci's equipment worked. I was able to track you down as soon as the signal went active. You just arrived, right?"

"Yes. Just under an hour ago," she said.

"Pretty strange how time works in this place…" the Servant mused.

"What do you mean?"

The Servant turned its hooded sight to her. "Well, you were Rayshifted first, but the Master got here way ahead of you. _Waaaay _ahead. To the tune of something like a week."

She stopped in her tracks, utterly bewildered. "A week?"

"Yep. And things got a lot more interesting around here while we were waiting for you."

* * *

**_Apocrypha: Reluctant Quickie (Rider Medusa) _**available below (mature content). In addition, be able to choose the Servants to be included into Apocrypha.

**P atreon: Shurpuff**


End file.
